


Reality

by ames



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-15
Updated: 2010-09-15
Packaged: 2017-10-11 21:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ames/pseuds/ames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the smuttiest thing I've ever written, which frankly isn't saying much.  Written for the 100 Ways challenge - In an Elevator.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reality

Sex.

Lance was plagued by it. Rather, he was plagued by the not-having of it, while all around him it seemed that everyone was getting laid. He looked over at JC and Chris, who were leaning against the wall waiting for the elevator, eyes closed. Sure, they looked innocent enough – JC with his admittedly dorky haircut and Chris calm for once. But Lance knew better. There were depths of depravity hidden beneath their quiet exteriors. Lance narrowed his eyes. Depravity. Totally. Why, he wouldn't be surprised if they weren't planning to have sex with someone tonight. Jerks.

And Joey was worse than the two of them put together, which was really playing havoc with Lance's internal stability. It was one thing to have a best friend who was hot and affectionate. It was another thing altogether to have a best friend who was hot, affectionate, straight, and a horndog who had sex with everyone but Lance. Add to that Joey's idea that Lance was some kind of innocent that needed protecting from the evils of the world, when all Lance wanted to do was go be a little evil himself, and he was about to burst.

Of course, it wouldn't be hard to have sex these days. While there were obviously bodyguards and band members and a million other people always around, it wasn't too hard to slip out if you needed to. Get out, go to a club, pick up and get off. Easy as pie. Unless, of course, you were only nineteen. And you still kind of looked like a girl. And you were Lance, and then it was a problem of monumental proportions.

The elevator dinged. Lance grabbed his duffel bag and followed the guys in.

Elevators had the potential for being sexy, Lance thought. Just enough space to be interesting, the railing around the perimeter that was at the exact right height to grab on to. He surreptitiously reached behind his back and gave the railing a little tug. It seemed nice and sturdy enough, bolted into the wall every foot or so, from what he could see. Plenty of room, if he was pressed up against it, and the guy was kneeling down in front. Or, Lance could be facing the wall, and the guy could be over by the panel. Lance grinned inwardly, picturing it. Except, what if his ass set off the alarm? Yikes.

His train of thought was interrupted by Joey's elbow digging into his side. "Lance, man. Where are you?"

Lance returned Joey's warm smile. "Right here, dork."

"Ha, ha." Joey shoved Lance's shoulder. "Whatever. You were completely zoned out, man. You ok?"

Lance shrugged and hiked his duffel higher on his shoulder. "Nah, I'm good. Tired, you know? But good."

"So, you're not going out tonight?" Justin asked from the other corner. "Cause, you know, we said that we'd all go dancing, and I still kinda want to do that."

JC whimpered and slid down the wall a little. "Come on, J, we're all tired, I'm tired, Chris is tired, can't we take a night off?"

Chris opened one eye and glared balefully at Justin. "I am going to bed, Justin. Bed, where your underage ass belongs."

Joey snickered and cuffed Justin affectionately. "Don't worry, J, Lance and I'll go out with you, right, Lance?"

Lance pondered. He'd had plans, actually. He had plans to go to bed with a bottle of lotion and contemplate this sex thing a little more. And if Joey's face slipped into his mind, or Lance accidentally whispered his name, it wasn't such a big deal, because everyone was either out clubbing or asleep in their own beds, and he had privacy.

Then again, clubs were fun and generally populated with hot guys in tight shirts, and he could indulge in a little anonymous groping in the bathroom, maybe. "Wouldn't want to let you down, Justin," he said easily.

Justin grinned and slapped Lance hard on the back, knocking him forward a step. "Knew I could count on you, dude. Never let it be said that Lance Bass turned down a chance to get jiggy wit' his bad self."

Lance blinked at him as the elevator dinged and the doors opened on their floor. "Jiggy wit my bad self?"

Justin laughed and danced his way into the hall, JC and Chris following, albeit with less energy. Joey wrapped his hand around Lance's neck and shook him gently. "Jiggy, man." He laughed and pushed Lance out into the hall.

****

The club, for lack of a better word, rocked. Lance bounced a little on the balls of his feet as he took in the sight. Whoever designed it seemed to have had a checklist of exactly how to make a closeted-but-not-by-choice gay guy happy. Dark? Check. Nice little corners to hide in? Check. Bigger corners to hide in with someone? Check. And of course, hot people to hide with. Lance glanced around the room and grinned. Check, check, check, oh my yes, check that box right off.

Justin whooped delightedly. "Aw, yeah! This is it, man, this is it!" His eyes glittered and his smile was bright enough that Lance had to look away. He didn't want Justin, but that didn't mean he was immune. But when Justin wanted to turn it on, the girls were all over him like white on rice, and Lance knew better than to get in the middle of that. Besides, he thought, glancing at a particularly cute guy at the bar, Timberlake's not the only show in town. He licked his lips, smiled when the guy looked his way, and Made his Move. (He always thought of it that way, in capital letters. It seemed more official, more like something that had a chance of working. Lance believed in confidence-builders. Unfortunately, his Move was still a work in process. But hopes were high.)

He was brought up short by a strong hand on his arm. Joey.

"What are you doing there, Lance?" Joey leaned in, warning in his eyes.

"Joe, it's fine. This is a safe place, I'm allowed to talk to guys here." Lance tugged at his arm futilely. "You know, you can go talk to some girls, if you want. I don't need to be babysat."

Joey released Lance's arm and stuffed his hand in his pocket. "I know, man. I just don't want you thinking that what that guy's going to give you is anything real, you know? It's not like you're going to get anything out of it."

Lance grinned. "Maybe some head in the bathroom, if I'm lucky."

"Now see, that's exactly what I'm talking about!" Joey darted his eyes at some girls who were passing by them and jerked his head sideways. Lance frowned.

"You okay there, Joe?"

Joey glared, and his head jerked again.

"Seriously, Joey, you all right?" Lance leaned in, put his hand on Joey's neck, gave it a little squeeze, fake-concern just gushing out of him. He loved fucking with Joey like this.

Joey growled and hauled Lance to one side. "Look, moron, all I'm saying is that you need to remember what's real here. And it's not some guy at a bar who's just after your money or with you because you're famous."

Lance blinked. "I think I'm a little offended by that, Joey. You're saying that the only reason a guy would want to be with me is because of the group and not because I'm a great guy?"

"No," Joey said. "You're a great guy and you know it. But he doesn't know it, and you need to remember that."

Lance patted Joey on the shoulder, promised to keep his lessons close to heart, and slipped away. At last, freedom!

Or so he thought.

Every time Lance got close to the guy, or any guy, he found himself tugged onto the dance floor by Joey or Justin, all smiles and "C'mon, man, dance with us!" Lance would dance for a little while and it was fun, but then someone would catch his eye or brush up against him with definite intent, and he would know that it was time to Make his Move. He'd peel off, miming a need for a drink, or a bathroom break, and oh-so-casually walk over to Mister Blowjob Maybe, who would be smiling at him with definite interest. And inevitably, Lance would be intercepted by a jovial arm thrown around his shoulder, or a drink pressed into his hand, and Joey. Laughing, beautiful, irritating as hell Joey.

All night long.

Lance finally gave up, resigned himself to his fate of Eternally Celibate But Not By Choice, and decided that the next time he went out, he was ditching Joey Fatone. And until then, his bottle of lotion would just have to suffice.

****

The next time was a couple of weeks later, and Lance thought he might actually have a chance, because Joey was too tired to go out. However, he had apparently enlisted JC into his evil plan to deprive Lance of sex. Lance had just started chatting up a nice guy – a little shorter, nice dark hair, teeth that were crooked enough to be interesting – and JC slithered up behind him, wrapped an arm around his waist, smacked a kiss on his cheek, and spun Lance onto the dance floor. The cute guy disappeared. Lance went home alone.

****

Three weeks later, and they didn't even make it to the front door when Joey realized that Lance had never seen "Animal House", which just happened to be playing on cable that night, and it was imperative that they watch it.

It was actually kind of nice. They were flopped on their stomachs on the same hotel bed, a bag of stale microwave popcorn open in between them, feet kicked up behind. At some point in the evening, Joey had captured one of Lance's ankles between his own, which was both mildly uncomfortable and kind of thrilling. Joey got up to use the bathroom during a commercial break, and Lance rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling and contemplate matters. He heard the toilet flush and turned to smile at Joey.

"God, it's nice to have an evening in, isn't it?" Joey said, covering a yawn and ruffling Lance's hair affectionately. "No girls, no pressure, just me and my best friend, doing normal stuff. And I'll tell you this, ain't no one else I'd rather do nothing with than you. This is the real thing, man." He beamed at Lance and whapped him in the head with a pillow.

Lance sighed and tried to shove Joey back into the mental box labeled "Best Friend", and not in the one labeled "Potentially Awesome Boyfriend". It was hard to, though, when Joey reached out and tugged Lance closer to him to administer a big bear hug. Lance tucked his head onto Joey's shoulder and reminded himself that patience was a virtue, and that Wal-Mart had a two-for-one sale on baby oil that week.

*****

After a string of nights where Joey had interrupted every one of Lance's potential hook-ups (and not subtly either), Lance realized that he needed backup. There was much internal debate over which one of his friends would be most understanding, most appreciative of the delicacy of the situation, and most empathetic to his plight. Unfortunately, the one person who understood him the most was the one person who was driving him insane. Lance went with the next best option. Who better to help him get laid than the one other member who was also continually frustrated? He knocked on Justin's hotel room door.

"So, let me get this straight," Justin said, his brow furrowed. "You want to get laid, but you can't because Joey won't let you?"

"Essentially, yes," Lance said.

"And you're not a virgin."

"No."

"You lucky fuck."

"Skill, Justin. Not luck." He ducked the smack aimed for his head and grinned. "Look, here's the difference. I'm legal. You're jailbait."

Justin sighed. "I know. And Chris is worse than Joey, believe me."

"I've seen him at work," Lance said. "The guy can intimidate a hatchet-wielding lumberjack just by glaring at him. I'm amazed you get any play at all. Which, if you remember, is why I came to you. If you can escape Chris enough to get in the occasional grope – "

"And handjob."

"- and handjob with whatever random girl you want," Lance amended. "Then you can help me get Joey off my back."

*****

Never was there a more brilliant idea than enlisting Justin to combat the Joey-JC team. One of JC's joys in life was dancing with Justin, really being able to cut it loose on the dance floor with a guy who could keep up with him and wasn't afraid to dance close. Joey had been pulled in to join them, thank you again, Justin. Lance usually enjoyed the show, but tonight, he was busy with something else.

Kissing. Kissing! Lance had finally made it to the kissing stage with Brad, a nice skinny guy with a fantastic way of hooking his first two fingers into Lance's front pockets and tugging until they were nestled up exactly right. Lance leaned in, pressing his hand against the wall next to Brad's head, and licked a line over to his ear. Brad tilted his head accommodatingly, and Lance began some serious investigation of the soft skin right under his earlobe. He had just started to breathe indecent suggestions into Brad's ear when he felt Brad tense underneath him. "Um, hi," Brad said.

"Hey there, kid, wanna beat it? Yeah, thought so, thanks."

Lance banged his forehead on the wall. He was going to kill Joey. Brad began to sidle away, which was the worst thing that could happen right now. Lance laughed, trying to play it off as a joke. "Very funny, Joe, ha ha ha. Now go away, because Brad and I –"

"Seth."

Seth? Really? "Seth and I were kind of busy, so if you don't mind?" Lance gave Joey the Glare of Death and turned his attention back to Bra – Seth, who frankly looked more scared than turned on.

"No, Lance, I think Seth wants to leave now." Joey wrapped his arm none-too-gently around Lance's shoulder and pulled him away. "And I think it's time you left too. I've got a cab waiting outside."

Lance pulled away. "What? You're sending me home?" He was furious. "What gives you the right to do that, Joey? Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?"

Joey glared right back. "Embarrassing? You should be glad I'm here looking out for you!"

Lance's reply was cut short by the sudden appearance of Chris, who whacked them both across the back of their heads and said tersely, "You guys want to fight, fine. Don't do it in public, ok? Get out, go home, and be good until you get there."

"Fine." Lance pushed past Joey and Chris and stormed for the door, fake-plastic smile firm, thoughts of death and destruction in his mind.

The ride back to the hotel was tense and silent. Lance glared at Joey. Joey glared at the bodyguard who sat impassively in front and projected a sense of Zen that really was impressive under the circumstances.

"I'm just saying," Joey hissed. "You're not careful, Lance."

"Shut up, Joey."

"You need to remember what's real here."

"Shut up, Joey."

"What you're doing, Lance. . . "

"Joey," Lance said evenly and calmly. "You're my best friend. If you want to stay my best friend, you won't finish that sentence until we get back to the hotel."

Joey opened his mouth to protest, but at Lance's pointed glare at the front seat, shut it and sat back with a huff. Lance fumed. The taxi placidly moved forward. The bodyguard meditated.

Tension was high, and not just in the cab but embarrassingly, also in Lance's pants. He felt like he was going to burst, or his dick was going to break the zipper off his slacks. And whose fault was that? Joey's, of course. Always Joey. Frankly, Lance was getting a little sick of the crush he had on his best friend. It was not fun feeling like he had to always damper down his hugs, or his reactions to Joey's careless kisses on Lance's cheek, or the way Joey would muss his hair. Something had to change, and change soon.

The cab pulled up to the hotel. Joey pushed his door open so hard it bounced back closed, prompting a stream of profanity from Joey, and a snigger from Lance. Glares all around. The bodyguard (who Lance thought was named Maurice, but what kind of a bodyguard is named Maurice?) all but yanked them out of the car and propelled them to the hotel lobby. Joey stalked ahead, radiating anger.

"Look, Maurice," Lance said quietly.

"Marvin."

Marvin? He's got to be kidding me. "I'm sorry, Marvin." Lance flashed what he hoped was a winning smile. Judging from the look on Marvin's face, it wasn't. He plowed on. "Joey and I need to have a private discussion."

No response.

"So, we need to be alone for that."

No response. They were getting closer to the elevator, and Lance was getting desperate. He could see Joey ahead, jabbing the elevator button repeatedly with his middle finger. Lance thought wildly. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

"And I think I saw Chris give a key or something to a girl at the club tonight, but I don't know whose, and she may be up in one of our rooms."

Marvin's head whipped around. "Kirkpatrick did what? Is he crazy?"

Lance shrugged. "He's been a little, you know, cooped-up lately. So, can you grab the first elevator and check things out, and Joey and I will follow behind?"

Marvin narrowed his eyes and studied Lance's face. Lance dropped the winning smile and tried to project confidence and calmness, with a hint of "don't forget who signs your paychecks, buddy". Success. Marvin grumblingly agreed.

They met up with Joey at the elevators, and Marvin explained what was going on. Joey cut his eyes over at Lance and snorted. "Whatever."

Glare, glare, the first elevator arrived, Marvin left with strict instructions for Lance and Joey to get on the next one, go straight to the floor, and if there was a problem, he'd meet them at the elevator doors. The doors closed and Lance and Joey were left alone.

"Slick one, Bass," Joey said. Lance glanced over. Joey was staring straight ahead. Fucker.

"Whatever, Fatone."

The other elevator arrived. Joey pushed ahead, turned the key that sent the elevator to the top floor without any stops, and leaned against the wall. Lance sighed, boarded, and the doors closed.

"Look, Joey. I'm pretty pissed at you right now."

"Oh, are you, Lance? Because I didn't get that from you telling me to shut up in the cab."

Lance grabbed Joey's arm and yanked him around so they were face to face. "Pissed doesn't even begin to describe it, Joe. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Joey laughed incredulously. "What do I think I'm doing? I think I'm saving your ass! You have no concept of what's going on, Lance, you have no idea what the consequences are!"

That was it. Lance saw red. "I don't have any idea of the consequences? Me? The guy who keeps all the schedules, who is the only one other than JC who seems to have a sense of responsibility in this group? Oh, you have crossed a line, Fatone, a line!" He slapped the emergency button, and the elevator jerked to a stop.

Joey stared at him incredulously. "What the fuck, man? Martin is going to kill us!"

"We're having this out right now, and it's Marvin, you dumb fuck." Lance's phone began to ring. He pulled it out and turned it off. Joey's started ringing seconds later. Joey pulled his out and looked at it for a minute, then turned it off.

"Ok, Lance," Joey said. He leaned against the wall. "What's your problem?"

"My problem, Joey," Lance gritted out. "My problem is you. Every time I get the chance to meet someone, you interrupt us. Every time I talk to a nice guy, or any guy at all, you pull me away. And tonight! Seth was a nice guy, he was into me, I was finally having a good time, and you go all alpha male I'm-the-boss-of-you and scare him away? And then send me to BED?"

Joey shook his head. "I'm looking out for you, Lance. You don't need those guys!"

Lance raised his eyebrows. "I don't need those guys? Or is it that I don't need any guys? I thought you were fine with me being gay, Joey. Would this be different if I was into girls?"

"Of course it would, Lance!" Joey exclaimed. "Don't look at me like that, you know exactly what I'm talking about, and fuck you for insinuating that I have a problem with you liking guys. Of course it would be easier if it was girls, but only because it was girls. But it wouldn't be better, and we'd still have the same problem."

"And what exactly is that, Joe, cause I'm having a hard time seeing it."

Joey deflated, sagging against the wall with a sigh. "Look, Lance. It's just that I'm worried about you, you know? We were nothing for so long, and then we got so famous so fast. I know that there's a lot more. . . opportunities, now." He paused and looked straight into Lance's eyes. "And I know that there are a lot more people who will do whatever it takes to get close to you, will say anything to get a piece of you, and I know you, Lance."

Lance swallowed. Joey was staring at him, he'd say gazing, but it felt heavier than that. He took a shuddering breath. "And what do you know about me, Joey?"

Joey stepped in close, and cupped Lance's cheek in one hand. "I know that you're trying really hard to grow up as fast as you can. I know that you want to have control of something, so you take over the schedules, and you make sure that everyone is where they need to be. I know that you worry about making the right impression on people, that you still think that you might not be good enough for what's happened to us. I know you love the group, you love to sing, and you still kind of hate the dancing." His thumb stroked Lance's cheekbone lightly. "And I know that you're lonely sometimes, and that it's hard for you, and that you're looking to connect with someone, for someone to understand you."

Lance was pretty sure that Joey was killing him, dissecting and spreading him open for all the world to see, teasing out his little secrets and his fears. "Joey," he whispered, closing his eyes and hiding from the understanding in Joey's gaze.

Joey brought his other hand up so he was gently holding Lance's face, like Lance was made of gossamer, or spun sugar, or something precious and fragile. "You get caught up in the sparkle sometimes, and I worry that you're not seeing what's really there. That guy tonight, he didn't want you, Lance. He wanted a piece of Nsync. And you're so sweet and so great that you see the best in everyone, and you don't see things how they really are. I'm just trying to keep it real for you. I don't want you to get hurt."

Oh, god, Lance thought. What the hell was he going to do with this? He opened his eyes and gasped a little to see Joey right there, looking at him with such concern and love and dammit, Lance couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Joey," he said quietly, grasping Joey's forearm. "You're so busy making sure that I know that things aren't always how they appear, that you're the one not seeing things how they really are." He took a deep breath, leaned in, and kissed Joey on the mouth. Joey didn't kiss back, but he didn't pull away either. After a few seconds of gentle pressure, Lance pulled back. "Don't you get it? Everything you just said about me, everything you're doing to piss me off – you know me better than anyone else, man. And I can tell you some things about you that I see, I see them every day. Your smile, your generosity, your willingness to do anything that needs to be done to make things happen. Your work ethic, the way you take care of me, even when that's the last thing I want you to do. You're beautiful, Joey."

Joey's eyes were wide, and he took a tiny step away, dropping his hands. Lance let him back up, but slid his hand down Joey's arm and grasped his fingers. "Lance," Joey said hoarsely. "You kissed me."

Lance squeezed Joey's fingers lightly. "This isn't a heat-of-the-moment thing, Joey. I kissed you because I've wanted to kiss you for a long time. I wish I could do more than that, honestly."

Joey breathed in sharply, his eyes racing over Lance's face. "Lance, are you saying – I just, I wanna be clear here. You – you want me?"

Lance moved in closer and took Joey's other hand. "I'm saying that you wanted me to see the way things really are, right? And I'm telling you, this is how they are. You're my best friend. I want to be more. I think we'd be good together, and I know that if I had you, it wouldn't matter what sparkle was around me, or who wanted to be with me or why. Cause this is real, this is totally real, and please Joey, please, can we try?" He hadn't meant to beg, but he wanted this so much it was pouring out of him, leaking out of his pores and bleeding through his skin.

And he must have shown it, shown something, because Joey snapped to attention like someone had fired a gun or something, just jerked right upright. "God, Lance," he rasped. "You're asking? You think I'd say no? You think I don't want – fuck, yeah, we can try." He laughed a little, Lance's heart skipped a beat, literally skipped, and Joey grabbed him by the back of his neck and yanked him forward, and they were kissing, they were kissing each other, he was kissing Joey and Joey was kissing him, and it was almost overwhelming, and all Lance could think was Joey Joey Joey Joey.

He pushed forward, pressing against Joey's chest with desperate hands, backing him up until Joey hit the guardrail with a grunt. Lance pressed his hands against the wall on either side of Joey's head and concentrated on every lick he could take of Joey's mouth, every little spot that made him moan or catch his breath. Joey was far from idle. His left hand stayed buried in Lance's hair while his right hand burrowed between them and wrapped around Lance's waist. Lance groaned as Joey pulled them more tightly together, and then gasped as Joey left his mouth to kiss down the side of Lance's throat. The scratch of his beard was wildly thrilling – Lance usually kissed clean-cut guys, trying to go as far away from men who looked like Joey as was possible without actually kissing women.

He pulled back, gasping for breath, his skin burning from Joey's kisses, his mind reeling. What was going on? "Joe," he gasped. "Joey, what is this? You're straight, man."

Joey's eyes were a little glazed, and he licked his lips quickly. "Yeah. So?"

"So, you don't kiss guys." Lance paused. "You don't kiss me."

Joey grinned and spun Lance around until it was Lance's back pressed against the wall and Joey holding him there. "I don't kiss guys. I do kiss you. Dude, why are you complaining about this?"

Lance laughed lightly. "I have no idea."

Joey kissed him again, slipping his tongue into Lance's mouth and running it along the edges of his teeth. "Go with the flow, man. We're talking about this later, don't get me wrong, but they're going to kick this elevator into gear any minute now, and there's something I want to do first."

That something turned out to be sliding his hands under Lance's shirt. Lance heartily approved of this plan, banging his head against the wall with a groan as Joey attacked his chest with lips and fingers. Lance knew that there wasn't a lot of time, and he also knew that with the hard-on he'd had all night, he wasn't going to last long. He gripped Joey's shoulders, tugging him until they could kiss again. "Not much time, right?" he whispered.

"Yeah, any minute now." Joey gasped, grinding into Lance with a single-mindedness that was flattering, really. Lance nipped Joey's ear.

"We should step it up, then."

And as his hand slid down Joey's front, as their fingers fumbled with buttons and zippers, as he slid inside his pants and grasped Joey and began to stroke, Lance realized something. He was having fun. Before, sex had been about, well, sex. Go out, pick up, get off, he thought. But this, the feel of Joey's big beautiful hand sliding over his cock, the feel of Joey's big beautiful cock between Lance's hands, Joey's hot breath against his neck, and the oh-my-god-it's-finally-Joey sheen the whole experience had taken on – this was so much more than that.

"Just so you know, " he gasped, thrusting into Joey's hand. "We're doing this again. Slower." He jerked as Joey gave his cock a particularly wicked squeeze-stroke combo, and winced when the small of his back banged against the guardrail. Oh, that's gonna hurt in the morning, some demented logical part of his brain pointed out. The rest of him was focused on Joey's hands, Joey's mouth, and the delicious sensations they were wringing from him.

"Just so you know," Joey said, licking a stripe up Lance's neck. "I'm planning on doing this a lot. For a very long time." He tipped his head back and looked at Lance.

And with that look, Lance came. And after, before the hurried dressing and the opening of the elevator doors, and the explanations to Marvin (who was pretty pissed) and Chris (who was beyond pissed and well into livid), Lance and Joey spent a little time just holding each other.

"I can't do any of this without you, Joey." Lance admitted. "I mean, I could, but I wouldn't ever want to."

Joey hugged Lance tightly and kissed his cheek. "Best friends, Lance. And now, something more."

End


End file.
